


The Apprentice

by Aevan



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:49:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23264242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aevan/pseuds/Aevan
Summary: Based on various bits and pieces of Star Wars lore with very little canon, largely KOTOR setting. Qi'ra is the Dark Lady of the Sith and Rey is pretty grey. May be some Dark Rey and Rey/Qira femslash if I continue at all.
Kudos: 5





	The Apprentice

Rey smoothed down the front of her robes, waiting by the loading ramp for her shuttle to fully auto-dock. “Confidence.” She breathed. “You belong here.” She pounded a clenched fist onto the button, the ramp lowering with a hiss. She lifted her chin and began the descent.

To be met with the weapons of a dozen Stormtroopers trained on her. Their captain- a red-headed man with a sharp nose and pale grey uniform- glared at her from among his troops. “Come to die, Jedi?” he sneered, gesturing forward so that two soldiers grabbed her roughly, searching her robes and seizing her lightsabre. Rey remained a picture of serenity: she belonged here. And she did. She couldn’t fathom why, but the Force had called to her; echoing across the galaxy to where her fate had been bound, raging and restless- urging her to follow. Without a word to her Mentors, her friends, she had dropped everything, climbed into a shuttle and left, trusting the Force to guide her until her craft stumbled out of lightspeed before that colossal construct of Darkside energy: the Star Forge.

The captain’s sneer dropped as he clutched his earpiece, visibly shocked by what he was hearing. His panicked eyes darted between Rey and the floor. “I… follow me.” He stammered, pivoting on his heels and leading the Jedi and a dozen bewildered troopers out of the shuttle bay.

She was led into a quite literally cavernous room: obsidian crystals jutted from every surface, a far cry from the metallic mass that was the rest of the Star Forge (had this room been decorated, or grown?). From within the blackness, specks of light radiated in green, red, gold and opal. Crystals. Kyber crystals Rey soon realised. A red wave of light swept across the room like a pulse; as if it were the beating heart of the Star Forge itself. This room held great Dark power, but then, so did its occupants: upon a raised dais, seated on a jagged jet-black throne was the Dark Lady of the Sith: Qi’ra. An enrobed Devaronian male standing at parade rest beside her. Rey gazed up at the woman, the Force swirled around her in ribbons of blue and gold, contrasting sharply with the décor and yet no-one seemed to notice. The maddening echo of the Force that had wrenched Rey from her life and driven her across unknown space to her destiny finally quieted in her chest. She belonged here.

The officer had made a quick bow and his excuses, retreating from the throne room as quickly as possible, handing Rey’s sabre to one of the guards in striking red and gold armour upon making his exit. Rey had barely noticed, her eyes had not yet left the swirling Force, fascinated by how very tangible her destiny was and yet how entirely clueless she was as to what it all meant. Her feet carried her to the edge of the dais. She took a knee and waited.  
Qi’ra spoke. “So, Jedi.” The title dripped with distain. “to what to I owe the pleasure?” Qi’ra mocked, a smirk playing on her stoic features. Rey found herself, of all things, somewhat embarrassed. The truth was she had no idea why she was here, only that it was imperative she should, and now she had arrived only to be mocked. Doubt crept in- had she been mistaken? Surely a Force-user as powerful as Qi’ra could see what was happening, was she simply being coy? Qi’ra gracefully leant on one elbow, her fingers lightly resting against her temple as she coolly observed the squirming Jedi.

“I think…” Rey stammered out “I’myournewapprentice.” She had spoken slightly too quickly but Qi’ra missed nothing. Qi’ra chuckled darkly, eyes still trained on Rey. She brought her fingers pointedly together in front of her, clearly about to raise an issue. “Am I to understand that you, a Jedi, upon deciding to join my empire, rather than attending one of the Sith academies have come to my throne room lay claim to the honour of being my right hand? I admire your ambition, but it seems a little entitled, even for a Jedi, don’t you think?” Fleeting doubt crept in once more before being decidedly replaced by annoyance. For one thing, Rey had decided nothing, the Force brought her here and she was getting tired of being toyed with. Rey began her retort: “Am I to understand ‘your grace’ that you regularly allow Jedi to dock on your battle station and have them summoned to you, rather than arresting them or simply blasting them out of the sky? You know that our way lies together.” Rey stood. The athletic form of the Devaronian moved to intercept her but was stopped by a calm gesture from his mistress. “I am your apprentice.” Rey continued “I’ll not kneel for some master in a Sith academy, so you can accept me or you can kill me, either way my Fate lies with you.” Qi’ra’s knowing smirk became one of amusement. “Good.” Came her silky reply. “Any apprentice of mine needs to show some conviction. There is one small problem, however. As you can see, I already have an apprentice.” She gestured to the Devaronian beside her, his posture radiating simmering rage, glaring at his would-be usurper. “the mantle of apprentice is not mine to give; you must take it from Darth Balshar-if you have the strength.” Rey nodded silently, she knew this was the Sith way and from the look he was giving her right now he wasn’t likely to surrender.

Rey shed her cloak and turned to walk into the open space before the dais. Seeing the guard by the door Rey Force-summoned the proffered sabre from her hand, lighting it and letting it swing through the air a few times with a comforting familiarity. She turned to see Darth Balshar alighting from the dais, eyes boring into her with intent. He was near vibrating with fury. He lit a double sabre- silver and purple- and began to prowl in a circular motion observing, savouring his prey, willing its murder.

Rey turned to look at Qi’ra when she uttered “begin.” Barely giving Rey time to raise her sabre to block Balshar’s instantaneous onslaught, his palpable anger searing her as much as the silver blade that brushed against her shin on the backswing. A defensive play was going to get her killed. She pressed the attack, not giving him the space to wield his large blade effectively. The single blade gave her the advantage of speed in close quarters but her opponent had the advantage of strength and he used it. Rey found herself in a grapple as Balshar went for her weapon, both warriors a hand on the hilt of each weapon and the apprentice would soon overpower her. Unable to hold her own for much longer, Rey used her smaller stature and headbutt the horned Sith in the nose, using the gained second to simultaneously twist the hilt of his weapon to detach the two halves and unleash a Force push, his feet grinding across the floor a few inches as he tried to resist. Rey took the moment to step away, now wielding a purple lightsabre in addition to her yellow blade. The enraged Balshar used his now-free hand to unleash a torrent of Force lightning at the Jedi. She crossed the two blades to shield her from the energy, pushing her back in relentless waves as she saw the silver blade advance on her. Rey broke the struggle and rolled toward a wall of crystal, retracting both blades of she went. She used a Force push to propel her, now free-running up a sheer wall, grasping the edge to get her bearings and letting go of the purple sabre which clattered down and rested on a crag a few feet off the ground. She preferred single blade combat anyway. Her opponent followed, leaping to the crest in a single bound but Rey was ready, leaping into action and keeping him teetering on the jagged edge, no way to control the battlefield. An upward swing took their weapons above them, letting the momentum leaving their torsos exposed, Rey used the momentum to bring her elbow to his already bleeding face, pushing him back and toppling over the edge. Balshar caught himself before the impact, but a crystal crag had left a large gash across his back and he was bleeding badly, Rey leapt, prepared to land the killing blow when she was thrown backward into the rock face, a shard piercing her right shoulder. She took her weapon into her left hand, knowing her right no longer had the strength for battle, and watched as a roaring Devaronian stumbled toward her, his silver lightsabre trailing across the ground behind him leaving a deep gash in the already ragged floor. He swung above his head wildly, willed to rain down a brutal final blow, blood pouring across his face and horns, bloodshot eyes making his enraged features look unhinged and terrifying. Rey tried to duck, accidentally leaning forward enough to peel herself off the shard pinning her to the wall and falling away in agony. The blow swung wide, lacking any finesse, taking a pristine slice of crystal with it. Rey scrambled to her feet just in time to meet a second wild swing with her blade, the weight behind it pushing her down to her knees, once again grappled by a physically superior opponent, once again doubting the Force even brought her here. She was wrong, and that mistake had cost her life. She had all but given up on the ‘will of the Force’ when she saw it. Her saving grace. She gave a little more ground, her back arching uncomfortably over her legs. “Do you yield?” she managed to grunt out. The manic laugh that spat out from Darth Balshar sprayed hot blood over Rey’s face, the wide smile and bloodied teeth making him look even more deranged. “Do I YIELD? Now? In my moment of triumph? DIE JEDI!” Rey threw all her might into one final push and winked at the precariously balanced hilt tilting off a crystal crag. The purple blade erupted into life, straight into Balshar’s temple, bisecting his still-smiling face. He slumped to the ground, grey matter oozing out from under neatly cauterized flesh. She would never get used to the smell. “I thought you’d say that.” Rey quipped at the corpse, clutching her bloody shoulder and flopping onto the ground to breathe.  
Rey heard a slow clap from across the room.


End file.
